


The Final Mission of Agent Grim

by SherlockMalfoy



Series: Iron Squib and Other Magical Tales [7]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Harry-centric, Imprisonment, M/M, Non-Graphic Torture, Referenced Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:07:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22089853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SherlockMalfoy/pseuds/SherlockMalfoy
Summary: Just before things kicked off with the Winter Soldier, Agent Grim was called away on a mission... And it all just went to hell from there.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson
Series: Iron Squib and Other Magical Tales [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1084449
Comments: 11
Kudos: 133





	The Final Mission of Agent Grim

**Author's Note:**

> DO NOT ADD MY WORKS TO COLLECTIONS.  
> \-----------
> 
> Present time  
>  _Flashbacks_  
>  \------------  
> Since the last story in the Iron Squib series, I have not been without a muse. In fact I'm bursting with ideas. The problem, however, is how do I re-write "The Winter Soldier" when having Harry Potter, or literally any wizard or witch, in this AU means I can solve that entire problem in ten minutes or less using magic or some other deus ex machina like legillimency, memory charms, etc. I've already pulled a "he faked his death to go and do a slightly connected mission for the wizards" so I can't exactly do the fake death thing again. Besides, we all know Fury pulls that one in Winter Soldier and having two people do it in the same story is really dumb. I hope you'll enjoy what I have done, as it'll also hopefully tie up some B and C plot threads I've had dangling for a bit now.
> 
>  ** _Timeline placement_** \- this begins just before Winter Soldier and ends July 31 of that year.

It was a nice, simple, straightforward intimacy.

Very little had changed in their relationship since that quiet New Year's at Harry's apartment. Only, when they had a few private moments here and there... there was more touching. And kissing. Oh Harry loved that part the best. It wasn't even full on snogging and was chaste at best. But the old wizard was riding cloud 9. He hadn't felt that foolish and young in years.

But for every good thing that happens to one Harry Potter, something equally horrible must happen. It's the very nature of his particular brand of luck. And so it was not even a full week later, on the very first Monday of January 2014, Harry was called away from dinner at Steve's in DC with an emergency.

Being officially on suspension and still getting the side-eye for various investigations didn't seem to hamper the need for his particular skills when it came to the unique position his strike team filled for both SHIELD and WARD.

Unfortunately for all Harry's abilities and skills and powers, the one that would have been most beneficial at the time was one he did not possess.

Otherwise he would be sleeping on Steve's couch or in his own comfortable bed having just filthy and desperate dreams of the man doing rather wicked and unspeakably arousing acts to his person. But no, Harry was no Seer. Not like Luna had been. So he didn't see the betrayal coming though as he came to and found himself chained to a floor in naught but his skin. After all, if the chant of "Hail Hydra!" from two thirds of his own men hadn't given it away, the giant banner he could spot through the window certainly settled the matter for him well enough.

Attempts at magic would only ricochet the spells off the walls of his cell.

He was routinely gassed so that he wouldn't escape when food was brought to his cell. Food he refused to eat and water he refused to drink. Twice over the course of a week and a half he had been gassed and woken up in another room, tied to a chair. Interrogated. Tortured. One guy thought he was going to experiment on him with something, and learned rather quickly that was a very bad idea when Harry had headbutt him, breaking his own nose in the process. After that, he was gassed for those kinds of sessions, too.

Not that they were able to do much to or with him.

In the end, he was left alone and gassed twice a day to be fed and watered with things he wouldn't eat or drink anyway.

For any normal person, wizard or otherwise, weeks on end without food and water would cause them to weaken. But Harry? It wasn't like he could starve to death. Thirst to death. Sure, he was a bit sluggish - but the damn curse of being the master of the Hallows wouldn't let him die. Not for long at any rate. Besides, if he actually did die from hunger, his body would re-set, like it always did, and he'd be back at square one.

Unchanged and forever young.

It was a harrowing thought, when he had a few moments to wallow in self-pity and melancholy.

Which is what he was doing now.

Because he hadn't been gassed this morning.

Or the day before.

Or the day before that.

Actually, he was starting to wonder if they'd forgotten about him.

Harry had looked around his cell, contemplating the idea that he could make himself mad enough to force his magic to explode out of him. Break the cell like he broke the vault. After all, his original containment vault had also been made to have magic ricochet off the walls to keep it from escaping and harming anyone. But a crater in Scotland was a silent reminder that not even the best laid precautions are effective all of the time.

Harry lay on his back, staring at the tiny pipe that allowed the gas to flow into his cell and wondered how long it had actually been. If Steve was worried about him. It had only been six days since their second kiss - because despite how awkward it was Harry still counted that one he stole from Steve before he was turned into the hulking adonis he was now. Six days into the new year and already he'd been captured, tortured, starved, and now forgotten about.

That is, until he heard the creak of rusted hinges.

Of boots hitting stone as his cell was flooded with black suited figures.

"Thank fuck you're alive!"

Harry lifted his head and stared at the figure that was removing the facemask and sliding a wand up the sleeve with the other hand. A familiar, friendly face looked him up and down before a matching uniform to those around him was thrown to land on his chest.

"You'll make one lucky fella rather happy one of these days, Agent Grim," Anita Ollivander said with a wink. "In the meantime, get dressed, get geared up, and let's get the hell out of here."

**o0o**

Harry was uncomfortable, but that was mostly because the smell of food was making him nauseous. Or was it the coffee?

Anita watched him from where he sat in the kitchen of the safe house. It was an old one he had used himself in the past. Back during the post-war Purge. "Do you need a mind healer? Psychiatrist?"

"Rest. And when my stomach decides you don't want to drug me, a bowl of soup," he said, pushing the black swill away. He'd been rescued a week ago. But no one would tell him anything. Not where he was. Why he was being held. How the hell the people holding him knew what to do with the cell to keep him contained. Worst of all... when he'd asked after the Avengers... Any of them really, no one would answer him.

As if reading his thoughts, or perhaps he was letting them show on his face for a change, Anita shook her head and sighed. "You likely know by now you were being held by HYDRA. It's not the first time they've worked with our kind, and it won't be the last. There's a lot of people out there with an axe to grind against you."

"What about my team?"

"The no-maj and the wizards all turned on you. Except Jenkins. He had his throat slit trying to protect you. The squibs put up one hell of a fight but... only Agent Gilliam survived. And that was only long enough for him to escape his cell and get a message out. He called for, of all things, a house elf. A crazy old fucker, too. The damn thing couldn't breach the defenses to get to you both but it did hear him. Sent it running to find anyone that could help."

"And it found you."

"Yeah."

"And the Avengers? What of them? If HYDRA got into my team through the muggles then it means that SHIELD-"

"Oh Harry..." Anita said. "There's so much you need to know before we leave here..."

**o0o**

Harry slipped out in the dead of night.

The next morning, the compound he'd been held at had been razed to the ground.

Muggle news called it a terrorist attack of some sort.

The magicals under Anita Ollivander's command knew better. There was no mistaking the destruction caused by a dragon. Residue of magic left behind in the smoldering coals was too distinct to be anything but. And there was only one person crazy enough to climb the back of a dragon these days outside the handlers in the reserves.

As for Harry himself afterward?

Well... the man had decided that if someone was going to run around wearing his face after using all those lovely samples that were taken while he'd been imprisoned, then why not piss off the old Queen and Country while he was at it. Besides, he had some unfinished business at Gringotts of London to attend to. But first, Harry had something he needed to do. After all, Tony didn't get his flair for the dramatic from a void, now did he?...

**o0o**

Pepper stood staring at the screen in disbelief. A hand over her mouth as she watched a living, breathing flamethrower circling the skies above Notre Dame.

Large, leathery wings beating against the air as a rider in black sat astride the beast's long neck, holding on with a rope of all things and nothing more. At least, that's what the cameras of the news crews were able to pick up when they zoomed in as much as they could. JARVIS was monitoring the situation from the satellites, and there was a better, clearer picture from above of the dragon and its rider.

Rhodey stared wide-eyed at the screens. "Is that what I think it is?"

"Well, at least we know he's alive," Tony said nonchalantly. "A hungarian horntail. He must be really angry if he's decided to ride that one. Glad to see the upgrades to the satellites work." He shrugged, tossing the trinket he'd been fiddling with aside. "Now that we know he's alive, we can get on with more important things. JARVIS, where's Jolly Green hiding away right now? I've got an idea I want to pitch to him. See what he thinks."

"Dr. Banner is, unfortunately, indisposed. However while in his current form, he may receive the news that his friend is alive and well positively, and possibly revert back to his normal form."

"Great. I'll go. It's been a while since I've seen Hulk smashing about in his playroom anyway. I can note down some upgrades or new toys he might like"

**o0o**

Tony Stark had the best sleep he'd had in over a month.

Not since SHIELD fell apart and he began funding the Avengers full time himself had he been able to sleep through the night. Always working. Always tinkering in his workshop. Trying to find a way to find his father. Find Steve. Track the remnants of HYDRA. Work on replacing his suits that he blew up in, admittedly, a really well intentioned romantic gesture.

Just knowing one problem was solved was enough to lighten the load. Just for one night.

Pepper was so grateful for the good news.

Because for the first time in a month, she got to sleep through the night, too.

**o0o**

Harry Potter sat at a table with the goblin king, Ragnok the Seventh.

He was good friends with Ragnok the Sixth. His eldest son was an asshole that had to be put down, and Harry wouldn't have argued that. But his youngest son was quite possibly the most bloodthirsty goblin Harry had ever had the fortune to meet. Though it might be due to the fact he was so young and thirsty to prove himself. Something Harry could have related to once upon a time.

They were meeting because Harry had shown up, unannounced, in the lobby of the bank and had shouted at the top of his lungs, with a sonorous charm to help propel his words along, that a very important treaty had been broken and he was there to declare all of his houses in support of the Goblin King.

That had emptied the bank rather quickly.

They had just finished with the pleasantries and now... Now they got down to business. "What treaty has been broken, Lord Potter?"

"Why, none," Harry said. "Yet. How badly do you want to take your people from this land? How badly do you want to fuck over Magical Britain?"

"Very badly. This land has nothing to offer us save restriction and subjugation."

"Then allow me to make you a very lucrative business proposition. After, of course, you see to it personally that all of my and my family's assets are removed from your bank here in London and placed in another branch. Preferably New York City, as it is most convenient to where I currently make my home."

"And of your properties? Those cannot be simply transferred."

"Emptied and destroyed. I want the very foundations broken apart and made such that not even a muggle could build upon the wreckage."

"What has brought this on so suddenly?"

Harry smiled a smile worthy of a goblin as he leaned forward and stared at the creature right in the eye. "Does the name Johann Schmitt mean anything to you?"

At the mere mention of the name, the goblin hissed at him and spat at his feet. "You dare say that name here!"

"He is gone, but his followers are not. I need an ally in the fight against them here in the magical world. They held me captive. I was tortured and starved. I was rescued... but I was the only one. Forgotten in the scramble to escape before they could be found and taken into custody by WARD and what remains of the muggle group, SHIELD. I was able to see some of the facility, and even before I burned it to the ground with dragonfire, there were goblin captives. Most were dead, others... Please forgive me, your majesty but I felt it my duty to grant them the mercy of death. What was done to them... None should be forced to endure or live with."

"The followers of Schmitt did this, you say?"

"On my honor as a warrior. As a noble lord of an ancient house. I will pull the memories from my own head and display them proudly for any goblin to see if it will get me your aid in this fight."

King Ragnok the Seventh leaned forward, his grin a horrendous mirror of the one Harry had given him before.

"You have yourself a deal, Lord Potter."

"Call me Grim," Harry said. "Just Grim."

**o0o**

Steve hadn't seen Harry for months. Not since their dinner had been interrupted to call him away.

Well, he had seen him once. Just the once. On the television as he and Sam were following a lead on Bucky while laying low after SHIELD fell. Nat was still with them at the time. The three of them sharing a motel room in a backwater town. Sam had been gobsmacked by the sight. Steve was concerned that both Sam and Natasha could see what he was seeing. And Natasha was concerned mostly because the dragon wasn't shy about nearly burning Notre Dame to the ground.

He'd seen the glowing form of a bald eagle in the night sometimes, the faint blue glow waking him, or catching at the corner of his vision as he sat up doing the night watch while Sam slept. It was usually in the following days that he'd hear about another terrorist attack in the UK. Or about a part of a village being bombed out. Or armed soldiers having to go in and flush out extremists in the Scottish highlands. And eveyr time he saw that eagle, Spangles, he'd know Harry was about to get into something stupid again.

It wasn't until he got a text message from Hermione of all people. Telling him HYDRA had been chased out of the UK entirely that Steve understood what was happening over there. And it wasn't until Harry turned up in mid May, 2014, that Steve was able to see him with his own eyes in the flesh again.

A beat up duffle bag hanging off his shoulder, his clothes still slightly smoking as if he'd recently run through flames and only just now realized he'd been on fire. "So.... uh... Oh! Right! Surprise!"

At least, he would have said 'surprise' but all he got was 'soup' as he'd been pulled in so quickly and tightly against Steve's chest he'd had the wind knocked out of him. Harry thought he was going to black out before he was made aware of someone else in the room behind Steve.

"Mind introducing me to your friend there, Cap?"

Harry peered around him with a raised brow when Steve let him go. Once he was properly inside the motel room, the door was shut behind him and he was relieved of his bag. Harry stepped forward, offering his hand to the new face. "You must be Sam Wilson," he said with a polite smile. "I'm Harry Potter, but my colleagues call me Grim."

"You're the magic guy?"

"Yes. I'm the magic guy. And from what I was told in my debrief, you do everything Steven can do. Only slower." Harry looked over his shoulder, watching as recognition dawned in his expression. "Now then, I'm sure you two, mostly Steven, have a lot of questions and I'll answer them as best as I can. But first I'm starving and could really go for an old fashioned hamburger."

**o0o**

_"And the Avengers? What of them? If HYDRA got into my team through the muggles then it means that SHIELD-"_

_"Oh Harry..." Anita said. "There's so much you need to know before we leave here..."_

_The door of his room opened, swinging inward to reveal something his tired eyes didn't expect to be relieved by. "As I live and breathe. Glad to see that you in something that doesn't make you stick out like a pirate themed sexual deviant in a Sunday Sermon, Mr. Fury. For a change."_

_"Unfortunately your time in captivity hasn't dulled your dumb ass sense of humour."_

_Harry smiled weakly. "You know you wouldn't have me any other way." He glanced back at Anita. "So... SHIELD knows about HYDRA?"_

_"SHIELD was HYDRA. Has been for... who knows how long. Maybe even from the beginning."_

_"But Howard Stark.... Agent Carter-"_

_"They wouldn't have known. Not from their positions at the top. We certainly didn't," Anita said. "And that's why we need you now more than ever. Before the records at Headquarters were torched, I managed to remove all hardcopies of your service record. Being in the position I was, I had access to the full record which I've shared with Director Fury."_

_Harry sat, and he listened. He listened to Fury's account of what had happened to SHIELD shortly after Harry's team had broken contact. Of Project Insight and the rise of HYDRA within SHIELD. Of Steve and Natasha linking up with some guy with metal wings. And then he was told about the Winter Soldier. When retelling this to one of her subordinates, she would recall the sudden temperature drop in the room, comparing it to encountering a dementor._

_For his part, Fury had very rarely seen the man that lay beneath the smiles and the childish insults. The last time he had taken in that cold, green stare, had been when the man revealed to Fury his identity not only as Harry Potter, but as Tony Stark's real father. He was old. He was bitter and filled with so much anger. "I believe," Harry said at last. "That HYDRA has been working with cells of dark wizards to eliminate one another's enemies. Muggle on magical attacks have risen in the last few years. My team and I were treating the symptoms of the larger threat, keeping me busy so I wouldn't look below the surface. In return for weakening our governments, I believe the dark wizards were offering their services as mercenaries."_

_"Which is why we need someone of your... unique expertise. To handle things on the magical side while I and my loyal personnel handle our end."_

_"You'll only be putting out the fires. Cutting off heads. Anyone who's taken a surface level Defense class knows you don't kill a hydra by removing all the heads and cauterizing the stumps. It's too messy. Too slow."_

_"So what do you suggest?"_

_"I can't tell you. What you don't know can't come back to bite me in the arse. I will get the job done. And then I'm through taking orders from either of you. I will continue on in my capacity as an Avenger, but beyond that you'd better have a damn good reason for bothering me and mine."_

**o0o**

Things between Harry and Steve were awkward at first, both men unsure where they stood with one another considering how new things had been. And then in late June they had a run-in with some HYDRA agents that were also tracking Bucky Barnes and Sam ended up on the wrong end of a rifle. The man thought for certain he was going to die right there in the dusty, dirty Mexican street.

Steve helped Harry drag him inside the nearest building - a bodega - where Harry proceeded to waste no time in using his magic for all to see. This wasn't exactly a good thing considering the shrieks that went up when a woman rushed over with bandages and bottles of alcohol only to see Harry pulling the bullets out of the wounds and sealing them with silently cast healing spells.

They left soon after they were sure Sam wasn't going to die of sepsis, shock, or internal bleeding in case Harry missed something.

It was like this rather a lot, actually, as the three searched for Bucky. It certainly made travel a little easier for Steve and Sam when a member of their party could teleport them nearly anywhere they wanted to go. Or use his magical ring to open a portal. They had nearly caught up with the elusive Winter Soldier a few times, and often ended up taking out more of HYDRA along the way.

On June 3rd, the trio found themselves in Brazil. It seemed Bucky was pushing further and further into South America, towards Argentina if Sam's reasoning was to be believed. "Loads of ex-Nazis settled there after world war 2. Lots of scientists if you believe the conspiracy theories."

Sam and Steve were expecting another cheap motel of some kind, but when Harry led them to a decent looking house they were admittedly confused. "One of my godfather's vacation houses," he'd said. "There's no electricity, but I did make sure it had running water put in back in the eighties when I used it as a base for a while."

Harry showed the two men to spare rooms before taking his own bag to the master suite. He hadn't lied when he said it was one of his godfather's houses. In fact, it was the same one the man had used after his escape from Azkaban. Though thankfully Harry had removed the floo access years ago so there wouldn't be anyone dropping by to check on him or the property.

Harry didn't sleep much that night. He hardly did these days after what he'd done after recovering from his captivity. Every time he closed his eyes he could hear the screaming. Feel the blood hitting his face as wizards and witches fell to the spears and axes of the goblins fighting at his side. He could smell his own flesh burning as he set himself off like a nuclear weapon to vaporize the different bases of operations for the mercenaries that chose to side with the muggles of HYDRA. That.... that he could cope with. That he could deal with. But the rest.... the children they found... the twisted experimentation that some of those wizards and witches put their own children through for the sake of melding their magic with muggle science it was...

Harry hadn't realized he'd left his room in the middle of the night until he felt a hand on his arm and reacted on instinct, a kitchen knife clutched in his hand as he spun and pinned the man to the wall with the blade at his throat. His green eyes unfocused and searching as he heard his name being called from nearby.

Eventually, he dropped the knife and took a step back, realizing where he was and what he had nearly done and seeking out the only thing in this place that made any sort of sense and throwing himself at it. He was a ball of nerves and neurosis that was currently held by strong, comforting arms as he tried to control himself and prevent a complete breakdown.

Sam rubbed at his neck and frowned. He recognized a lot in Harry's behavior. Too much, he'd say. "When did you last sleep, Harry?"

An answer was muffled against Steve's shoulder which caused him to mirror Sam's concern. "You're going to bed, Harry. Even if I have to put you there myself."

And that's exactly what happened. And when Harry's arm came out from beneath the blankets and his fingers snagged the hem of Steve's shirt in a steel-like grip... well... He couldn't just leave him there by himself. Not when he looked so pitiful laying there. "Move over," he said finally, and watched as Harry scooted back to make room. As Steve settled into bed atop the blankets, Harry moved a little closer, just enough for his hand to brush Steve's arm.

"Thank you," came the sleepy, tired words from the man buried under the blankets.

"Go to sleep, Harry."

**o0o**

July Fourth.

America's Birthday.

Captain America's birthday, too.

A dead lead on Bucky and a narrow escape from eliminating a HYDRA base in Argentina. One that looked eerily similar to the one where Harry had been held.

There were three survivors.

Three... partially magical survivors.

Harry's initial health check spells made his stomach churn and bile rise up in the back of his throat as he quietly called for Kreacher to take a message for him, as the elf would be far faster than a mere patronus from half-way across the world.

The three soldiers spent the evening of Steve's birthday watching Anita Ollivander's black ops unit deal with the remainder of what they'd found. When they got back to the safehouse, Harry introduced Sam to firewhisky. A very watered down version of it. Even that was a bit too strong for the man.

"How the hell can you drink that?!"

"Magic," Harry said.

"That's what you always say!"

"Well it's true. Unless I, too, turn into an unstoppable green rage monster after being exposed to excessive amounts of gamma radiation," he said, then pointed at Steve. "This stuff can get even the Hulk drunk. But to this day I've never seen Steven get even a wee bit tipsy from it. Though to be fair, most wizards can only handle a wee few drams at a time themselves unless they've got a stomach of goblin iron like my godfather. Or my mate Seamus. Now there was a man who could hold his liquor. Turned water into rum at age 13 and he was never the same again."

Steve realized, listening to Sam and Harry trade stories back and forth, that for the first time in a long time Harry was more like he had been when Steve was much younger. Back before the serum. Before any of this. After, of course, he'd learned about Harry's magic. Yes, the pain and whatever traumas the man had been through were still there, but for now they were pushed aside. "Tomorrow," Steve said after a while. "Let's pack it up and head back to the states."

"What about Barnes?"

"We'll find him. But we've also been going hard at this for six months. I don't even think Harry took a break before showing up to help us either." The man in question said nothing, but had enough sense to let Steve see him with a guilty look on his face. Brief though it was.

"It would be nice to curl up on the sofa with a pizza and crap telly again. I'm just really not looking forward to having to deal with 'Mione and Ron anytime soon," he said before taking the last few bites of his dinner and dropping the plastic fork into the cardboard container. "That's me off to bed then. Sam, if you would, leave a note before you go to bed with your address so that my house elf knows where to take your things."

"That thing still creeps me right out."

"You and me both," Harry said in agreement. "I'd set him free if it weren't for the fact that his previous owners were murderous blood purists. The damnable thing would turn feral and go on a muggle hunting rampage.

**o0o**

Despite the desire to the contrary, Harry couldn't sleep. So he spent most of the night up in the master suite with a stack of books, reading by candlelight as Kreacher refreshed cups of tea for him or provided him with light snacks. There was a knock upon his door around 3AM. "Door's open," he called out from where he sat stretched across the window seat.

A window seat, that Steve noted the first time he'd seen it, didn't actually show the scenic Brazilian farmland that surrounded the safehouse. And this time as Steve let himself into the room it didn't show the busy streets of London as it had before, but instead the rolling highlands of Scotland. At the moment it was night and raining beyond the window. But no doubt it was only to match Harry's mood.

"Can't sleep?" Harry asked him as he quietly let himself in, shutting the door behind him. "Would you like Kreacher to make you some tea? A warm milk or find a sleeping draught?"

Steve shrugged and scratched at his side as he crossed the room to the bed, the closest place to Harry where he could sit and not have to move anything out of the way. Blue eyes looked around at the discarded books. "Did you read all of these since coming up here tonight?"

"No. Just those over there," Harry said, indicating a pile beside the bed as he pulled his legs in closer to his body. "You can come over here and sit if you like. I've quite missed just sitting around with you."

Steve gave him a weak, tired smile. "You just miss propping your feet up on my lap while you watch TV," he said as he got back to his feet, grabbing the blanket off the bed and dragging it with him to join Harry at the window. Once he was settled down, the other man unfolded his legs and tucked his toes under Steve's thigh, huddling down comfortably beneath the blanket and opened his book right back up. He rested it against his own thighs with a contented sigh. "Thank you," Harry said. "Are you and I... are we okay?"

Steve leaned to the side some against the wall of the window nook and watched him from the corner of his eye. "Not right now," he said. "But we will be."

"I hope you're right," Harry said quietly as he turned the page of the children's fairytale book he was reading.

He felt a hand shift beneath the blanket to rest on his ankle, a thumb tracing a light line back and forth along his skin in a soothing gesture Harry had discovered worked when pre-serum Steve would get himself worked up while he was patching the poor bastard up from whatever foolishness he'd gotten himself into. "Of course I'm right," Steve replied with a tired, but amused smile. "I'm Captain America."

**o0o**

"So when do I get one of those?"

"Do you have magic, Sam?" Harry asked as Steve tried not to chuckle.

"No."

"Then never," Harry replied, nodding to the opening in space through the sparking golden circle. "Go on then. The alleyway won't bite. At least I hope not. Steven will be right behind you in a few moments."

"Why do I always have to go first?!" Sam eyed the pair of them a moment before shaking his head. "Unlike the two of you, I can still get hurt."

"It's not like I'm sending you into an active warzone, Sam."

"This week," the man muttered. Harry only raised a brow in amusement.

Steve laughed. "He could always send you through a fireplace."

"That's a thing?!"

"Just go, Sam! I can't hold this thing open forever!"

The man held up his hands in defeat. "Fine. Alright. I'm going."

Once he had passed through the glowing circle, Harry released the magic holding it open and sighed. "Finally, a few moments alone."

"Oh? If that's all you wanted-"

"I'm not coming with you."

"What?"

The wizard looked down so he wouldn't have to look at Steve's face. "I'm not coming with you."

"Why not?" Harry wouldn't look at him, so, Steve came forward and made him look at him. He put his hand under Harry's chin and tilted his face up, "Please. This once. Not even a little white lie. Why can't you come home with us?"

"I..." Harry closed his eyes and tried to put his thoughts into words. He really did. But he couldn't. Because he had sworn an oath that he could not break until what was done was... well... done. So he did the only thing he could think of. He opened tear filled eyes and raised a hand to Steve's cheek, sliding his thumb along the bone. "When you next see Tony or Hermione, ask them about the Unbreakable Vows."

Harry was quick, lips pressed to Steve's hard and fierce before the man was pushed back and suddenly he was caught from behind to keep him from falling on his ass in the alley. The wizard was framed in spinning pulsing and sparking gold for a moment longer, Just before the hole in space closed, the two soldiers saw figures emerge from nowhere, hidden all this time by some kind of invisible force. Two slim sticks were shot through and as the hole began to close, they could hear Harry's voice cry out.

By the time Steve was able to shake Sam off, the portal was closed and Steve couldn't reach him. Couldn't get back to him to help him. To save him.

Sam crouched down to pick up the two sticks, taking a closer look and seeing they were the finely made wands Harry had showed him. He offered these to Steve, not knowing what else to do with them. "Why would he disarm himself?"

Steve turned his head to look at the wands that were offered rather than at the now empty space of air that had been the portal to Brazil just moments before. He took them from his friend, looking at them for a long moment before sliding them both into his back pocket, just as he'd seen Harry do many times before. "It's a long story," he said at last, pushing his feelings down. Down until he could ignore them for now. "Harry's elf should have sent your things back to your place. Mind if I crash on your couch?"

"Don't you have your own place?"

He wasn't even sure he still did anymore. It was trashed last time he'd seen it, and it was paid for by SHIELD, which wasn't around anymore anyway. He could just head back up north, back to New York. He always had a place at the Tower. Tony had made that very clear after the Battle of New York. And then there was Harry's place which the man had owned outright. Finally he ran a hand through his hair and gave a tired sigh. "I'll figure it out tomorrow," he said at last. "Let me crash on your couch and I'll buy you groceries?"

"Now that's a deal I'd be stupid to pass up. Captain America himself buying my groceries."

**o0o**

Harry looked up at the sky. It was the only thing he could do with bullets in his chest. Bullets that made wounds that weren't healing. Not entirely. Not quickly.

He was bleeding out. He was in pain. But he had endured far worse when he was barely a man. And he would endure far more.

His vision of the blue sky was obscured by a masked face. He knew what lay below it. Charred and scarred. Burnt to a nice and shiny finish. Because he'd done it himself.

"Apologies for the bullets, Lord Potter-Black," said the distorted voice behind the mask. "But everyone expects you to be injured when I haul your sorry arse in."

Harry could feel the blood bubbling up the back of his throat. And when he smiled, it spilled out the corners of his mouth in a gruesome mockery of a smile. He spat, a spray of crimson on the man who loomed over him as the pale, barely there strands of platinum hair framed the old silver death eater mask that covered the hideous thing beneath. "Would never... expect.... anything less...." Harry managed to cough out. "From a Malfoy bastard."

"Disgusting halfblood," the man in the mask said, the rifle butt slamming down into Harry's face. It was the last thing he saw for quite a while.

**o0o**

_Agent Grim stood in the ruins of the facility. The dragon he'd stolen was rooting around in the ashes in search of charred meat. He knew they would come for him once they realized what he was most likely to do. He was, after all, somewhat predictable when revenge was on his mind._

_"Lord Potter-Black wh-"_

_"Grim," he said. "Just Grim." He turned and even Nick Fury had second thoughts about approaching him. But approach he did. "It needed to be done," Grim said solemnly. "Too many goblin corpses. They burn their dead. It was... more efficient."_

_"Understandable..." Anita said quietly._

_"There was evidence here! And you just destroyed it! All of it!"_

_"Look her you party store discount leather pirate!" Grim snarled angrily, his magic swirling around him in a rather impressive display of exactly what 'avada kedavra green' really looked like. "SHIELD is GONE! I don't report to you anymore so keep your goddamn mouth shut!"_

_A gun was drawn. The safety removed. Grim scoffed until he took a bullet to the arm._

_A bullet wound that didn't heal._

_"Goblin Element 89," Fury said. "Deadly to your kind, isn't it?"_

_"You son of a bitch!" Grim snarled again, raising his wand. Anita threw herself between them, raising a protective shield to block them both from retaliation._

_"ENOUGH!" she shouted. "Grim stand down!"_

_"If I recall you're meant to be dead-"_

_"Then as your friend, Harry, please! We didn't come to fight you!" she pleaded. "We came to help you!"_

_"He fucking shot me!"_

_"You threatened him!"_

_"So he fucking shoots me?!"_

_"What did you expect?! He's a damn no-maj, Grim!"_

_Grim glared at her, then at Fury. Fury shrugged. "She's right. You know I shoot first."_

_"If we're going to make this work, we need to work together! You can't just run off like that, Harry. And how the hell did you get a dragon?!"_

_Grim shrugged, and lowered his wand, the magic that had been howling around him and stirring up the ash dissipated. "The dragon reserve owes me some favors."_

_"A hungarian horntail?"_

_He shrugged again, glancing over his shoulder as she lowered her shields. "Sentimental," he replied._

_"Isn't that the same one that disrupted the satellite feeds when Stark went missing?"_

_Grim smiled, an idea forming in his thoughts. "Why yes," he said. "The very same."_

**_o0o_ **

_It had been weeks since they had begun this crusade. Rooting HYDRA out of the magical community. Destroying base after base. Collecting prisoners and victims._

_Many of them were goblins - and after the sacking of a base in Scotland that doubled as a pureblood manor, it was easy to see why. Most of the provisions that were put in place after the purge for the non-magical and non-humans were stripped away shortly after Harry's imprisonment. And it only got worse once his supporters had left the islands for good._

_Now, Grim stood staring at the computer displays. Watching as Fury and Anita collected the data they needed before the entire system was purged._

_"What's this?" he asked, pointing to a screen that showed a list of some sort. "I recognize some of these surnames but-"_

_Anita looked at her station and checked the data. "It looks like... It's a list of squibs," she said, then her eyes widened. "It's a list of verified squibs of all the noble houses!" she exclaimed. She checked over the names, marking off those she recognized and more and more, her expression hardened._

_Fury recognized some of them, too._

_"Most of these men were killed in action," he said. Anita nodded her agreement. That was why she recognized so many. WARD had employed many squibs over the years. Giving them work when hardly anyone else would. Giving them training to survive among the no-maj population. Some of them... some of them she knew very well._

_"Look him up," was all Grim said before leaving to rejoin the footsoldiers and organize clean-up while his partners in crime dealt with the computers._

_Once he got topside, the high tech devolved into Victorian splendor. Or rather, what was left of it. Magical and muggle bombardment had taken out quite a large section of the old manor house once Grim had crashed the wards on the place. There was shouting and gunfire. Without hesitation Grim ran to investigate. Once he reached the clearing, he saw it._

_An actual fucking "HYDRA!" he shouted, drawing both his wands and jumping into the fray._

**_o0o_ **

_Grim stood over the bandaged man unconscious in the bed._

_"It's not your fault, Harry. You didn't know. He was a squib."_

_Grim's low laugh was just as his name suggests. Grim. "A squib animagus with the ability to become a hydra?"_

_"He... didn't have that ability when he went MIA. Agent Mallory was my best. He was brought to us after the Purge by his mother, a pureblood who was... not treated well by her captors. You know what that was like."_

_"He was..."_

_"According to what little documentation survived the war in England, Agent Mallory was... created... to replace what was lost when the Order rescued you and Miss Lovegood. Fortunately for him, he was born defective."_

_"Defective?"_

_"Blind, Harry. But after corrective surgery when he was a teen, he could see. Colorblind, but it never stopped him," Anita said, sighing. "At least now we know what happened to him. Unfortunately, the mission he was on may have led to this."_

_"How so?"_

_"Your purge of England opened a can of worms that the ICW has been trying to keep a lid on for decades. Mallory was using his status as a Malfoy squib to infiltrate the rogue organizations that ultimately paired up with HYDRA. When I took over the department, we put our full might behind trying to purge the ICW of corruption. It all tied back to England. We just couldn't prove it. Not without Mallory's testimony and reports."_

_She sat beside the bed, hands on the rail. She leaned forward and pressed her forehead against her knuckles. "Now... we'll never know for certain what's going on."_

_Grim chewed his lip a moment before nodding. "I'd do it myself but you need a delicate touch. Is there anyone loyal to you that can perform legilimency?"_

_"Not proficiently."_

_"Then I'll talk them through it. We can extract the information from Agent Mallory. Correct my mistake-"_

_"You didn't know. Squibs can't-"_

_"Then explain how I put him in this bed? For that matter, explain to me why fiendfyre merely burned him and put him in a coma and didn't kill him?"_

_She didn't have an answer for him. He knew it. And she knew he knew it. "I'll see what I can do. Until then, Fury and I will go over the data and see if we can get answers from there. This is the first batch we've found intact and with the partial encryption we'll be able to crack the rest of the files from the other bases and get a better idea of the bigger picture."_

_**o0o** _

_The young woman turned away, and Grim held out the trash can._

_She snatched it away and opened her mouth over it, emptying the contents of her stomach until all that was left had been bile from dry heaving._

_"When you've recovered," he said. "Drink some ice water, take a calming draught, and remove everything you saw from your memory. Do not simply copy it. This is classified information. Do you understand?"_

_She didn't speak, but he could see her head move to show her acknowledgement._

**_o0o_ **

_Anita dropped vial after vial into the water of the pensieve. Then, she placed the cover on top. Grim raised a brow._

_"One of Stark's latest toys. A holoprojector for pensieves. To allow no-maj the ability to take part in a viewing without risking their lives the traditional way. Your elf was kind enough to nick a prototype for us," Anita said as she examined the hastily scribbled instructions. Once she had them figured out, she turned it on and followed the sequence of rune-etched buttons._

_The room shifted, changed, and took on a new appearance, objects and scenery and people filling in from clouds of mist and smoke. Taking shape before their eyes._

_And so the review of Agent Mallory's captivity and forced experimentation began._

**_o0o_ **

_When they were finished, even Grim's stomach was unsettled. "They've been... They've been..."_

_"Genetic manipulation. They're playing God."_

_Fury slid a tablet across the table. "That's not all. The facility you were held in, and the others we've taken down, were all part of a program called Project Miracle. Each base had a different approach but the end goal seems to be the same. Give magic to the magicless. Imagine if they picked up Stark, gave him magic, and set him loose in the general population."_

_"His core would destroy him from the inside. For an average squib. having that magic tapped is painful but can be managed. But given who he is... where he comes from..."_

_Anita caught on quickly. "Your bloodline's magic is extremely volatile. And with the Potter family luck... it would turn him into a bomb waiting to explode."_

_"Yes. His body wouldn't be able to contain it. He's a remarkable individual. Surprisingly resilient even among others like him. But the moment his core is cracked even just a little, it would destroy him from the inside out. Thankfully, we intercepted the data. Your techs were able to feed a virus back into the network and destroy the list. His identity as a squib is safe. For now."_

_The only thing that remained to be seen, to be discussed, was what to do next._

**_o0o_ **

_"Lord Potter-Black. King Ragnok the Seventh," the old woman said, bowing her head to the two visitors. "It is my understanding we have you to thank for the fall of Magical Britain."_

_"It hasn't fallen yet, Madame President. But it will before we're done."_

_"We hope so. We've been backing the Scottish and Irish independence movements for decades. Since the Great Purge, actually. Very fine work, Lord Potter-Black."_

_"Thank you, Madame," he replied. "But we still have a problem. The ICW's corruption that allowed the muggle terrorists access to our people. To our magic. The brutal experimentation done in the name of no-maj science and warfare."_

_"Your no-maj friend has an idea, but it will need time to implement. In the meantime there is of course, another matter that needs your assistance."_

_Grim frowned._

_"I don't-"_

_"There seems to be more facilities that need raiding and more victims in need of rescue. It just happens to coincide with a manhunt underway by a fugitive Captain America and his friends."_

_Ragnok huffed. "I think that's the first time I've seen you smile in months."_

_"I didn't even know he was capable of smiling," MACUSA's head said. "I cannot tell you the plan, but it does require your complete trust and cooperation. Otherwise, it will fail."_

_"I don't-"_

_"I will make an unbreakable vow, if you will make one as well," she said, offering her hand. "Ragnok here may be the bonder if you wish, Lord Potter-Black."_

_Grim hesitated, then turned to his goblin friend. "Do you know what the plan is?"_

_"I do."_

_"And you agree with this course of action?"_

_"I do."_

_"And if I refuse?"_

_"Then the enemy will win and you will be an honorless coward for all of your eternal days. Your soul will never taste glory and you will be a shame, a blight on the world and all your kin."_

_Such a serious declaration from a goblin was akin to telling him he was a spineless bitch who was better off killing himself if he chose to take the coward's path. Grim drew a deep breath and nodded, reaching out to clasp the arm of the president of MACUSA. "My fate is in your hands, Madame President."_

_"I will not abuse this privilege, Lord Potter-Black," she said, turning her attention to Ragnok and offering the use of her own wand to the creature. "You may begin, my friend."_

_Ragnok needed no wand to perform his duty but he accepted it nonetheless. For a witch or wizard to willingly give use of their personal weapon to a goblin was a sign of ultimate trust, and Ragnok had enough honor not to snub or sneer such a showing. He chanted the goblin form of the dreaded Unbreakable incantation. Over and over again until the golden threads began to form._

_"Do you, Lord Harry Potter-Black, Master of Death, Hero of Hogwarts, Slayer of Voldemort and Man-Who-Lives Eternal swear to follow my dictate to the letter without question or suspicion for the good of all magic kind, human or otherwise, until our purpose is fulfilled?"_

_"I so swear," he said. The first of the golden threads tightened and he could feel it hooking into his core with a burning ferocity that he had not felt since the days of his youth. Not since his soul was broken and remade in the fires of war and showers of blood. "Do you, Naomi Llewellyn-Graham, Madame President of the Magical Congress of the United States of America, swear not to abuse this authority over me and promise to release me from these vows once our purpose and work have been completed?"_

_"I so swear," she intoned, wincing as the magic hooked into her core. Back and forth, they swore the oaths that would bind him to her will and she to her word. A four layer oath on either side of the Unbreakable Vow._

_And when they were finished, and Ragnok at last incanted the end of the vow, Harry was given a packet to study. To memorize and a time turner to accompany it. "This is the part of the plan you're allowed to know. Once you've memorized it," the president said. "Burn it. Thoroughly and completely. Let it be ash and speak of it to no one outside this room save no-maj Nicholas Fury himself who is authorized to act upon my authority."_

_"Why not Agent Ollivander?"_

_"She... will be handling a part of the plan you cannot yet know. For now, you follow the plan and when phase one has ended, send the signal an you will be collected for phase two."_

**o0o**

Grim woke to bullets being pulled out of his body by skilled hands. Far too skilled hands.

"Why not use magic?" he rasped.

"Anti-magic bullets."

"What's your name?"

There was no answer. Grim hadn't expected one.

Once he was bullet free and the offending items placed in a small metal box, he was yanked back by a chain around his waist to meet the cold stone walls. A blast of ice cold water slammed into him, and it was now that Grim realized he was naked. Idly he wondered why everyone kept stripping him down in order to hold him prisoner.

Eventually when he was cleaned and the cell was nice and damp and his rations were delivered via a one-way portkey device, a pair of prison grays were delivered to him in the same fashion. Tucked into a pocket of his one-style-suits-all was a note, written in the hand of the MACUSA president herself. All it simply said was "Sit and wait."

It was a few more days, by his reckoning, that he had to wait. It wasn't like he couldn't just get himself out by apparition. Sure in his weakened state, it would likely kill him, but he'd be fine. Eventually.

And eventually came in the form of English Minister of Magic Lord Declan himself. With a nice little pair of gloves and a Davinium blade. That told Grim far more than the man likely had intended it to. Very few knew of this particular weakness of his. And fewer still had kept it written down somewhere. To his knowledge the only known copy of Hermione and Luna's research had been lost when he blew up his own house and all those poor aurora...

"They'll be coming to fetch you for your trial soon. Lucky you! This is the first time there's been a full turn out of the entire ICW. A representative from every single participating nation of the magical world will be there to see you for the monster you truly are."

"If anyone's a monster here, Declan," Grim spat, blood dribbling down his chin. "It's you. Handing over defenseless squibs to be mutilated and twisted-"

"To be fixed and corrected, Potter. Being magical and yet unable to use that magic is an aberration. A crime against the natural order."

"You stole the cores of children and forced them into beings that can't handle the power!"

"I have been correcting the mistakes of nature. Giving to those without the Miracle that was so cruelly denied them."

This time Grim did spit on him, just as he had Agent Mallory when he'd been 'collected' for phase two of the plan. The phase he knew nothing about and had to trust that his co-conspirators knew what the fuck they were doing. "By working with muggle terrorists?! Literal Nazis that would sooner wipe us all out than live alongside us?!"

"Why would they do that when they will join us as it should be? Giving power to the powerless. Wouldn't you like your son to shed his suit of metal and stand at your side the way he always should have? Instead such a precious gift was given to a weak, sickly muggle. You opened the door, Potter, to the possibility. HYDRA has simply given us a means to accomplish it. And it would be unwise to refuse the same gift to those who have helped us reclaim-"

Declan didn't get much further than that as Grim headbutted him square in the nose, causing the man to stagger back beyond the reach of Grim's chains.

**o0o**

It was... not what Grim had expected.

It was rather anticlimactic actually.

Though he didn't appreciate being used as a literal recording device.

And he certainly didn't take too kindly to his shoulder being sliced open to retrieve said device either.

Apparently while he was unconscious after Agent Mallory had been sent by Declan to retrieve him, as Fury knew the man would, the magitech recorder was implanted into him before he woke.

When this was revealed by, of all people, the representative from Bulgaria and the device retrieved, it was played back. There was more on it than Grim had thought, and frowned as he heard Agent Mallory playing his part as a Malfoy squib agent of HYDRA. He scowled at the mention of his son, and again at the second and third. The name of his son as being Tony Stark caught quite a few listeners off guard and it was immediately ordered that the chamber Oaths of secrecy were to be invoked on that information.

In the end the trial of the century ended up being a mass arrest of corrupt members of the ICW and a call for a complete suspension of it - in addition to what apparently was a usual outcry for Scotish and Irish independence from England. Much to the surprise of everyone left in attendance, of those still able to vote... the motion was passed unanimously and with the caveat that it could not be overturned for another two centuries. "If only to finally shut them up."

Grim himself was bundled off and taken by an Australian representative to a secure location for aid and recovery.

The entire process was a bit too much for Grim to have paid attention to. So he paid just enough to know he wasn't in danger and could finally get a good night's sleep and a hearty meal.

**o0o**

On July 30th, 2014 Harry Potter-Black stepped out of the floo in the President of MACUSA's private office a free man. He still couldn't go to England any time soon, but that was more because there were a lot of people there who were really angry at him rather than by a governmental decree. After all, he had helped lead a goblin rebellion against them and destabilized the economy, toppled an oppressive government, and broken the country of Magical Britain into three separate nations. Though for any students coming to Hogwarts from England and Wales, who chose to remain in England, they were going to be charged a higher fee for coming from outside the country. Not the Irish though. Just the English and Welsh.

When he brushed the ash off his shirt sleeves, he found Ragnok and the President waiting for him.

"I believe we have some unfinished business, Lord Potter-Black."

"We do," he said as he offered his hand to her. She accepted it and then held her wand out to Ragnok.

"Will you do the honors?" she asked.

The goblin grinned a vicious looking thing at them and took the wand from her fingers and began the counter incantation, in gobbledygook, to the Unbreakable Vow they had sworn. "Lord Harry Potter-Black," she began, "I hold all your oaths fulfilled and our purpose finished."

"And I, you, President Naomi Llewellyn-Graham."

The bonds were cut and the vow released from their cores. The golden threads pulsed before turning black and dropping away like ash.

"Before you go, Lord Potter-Black, see my secretary for your debrief papers, and then go home."

"Yes ma'am," he said, giving her a mock salute.

He did as he was instructed the moment he left her office, and found not just the secretary, but his former superior officer standing there waiting for him. She had a couple of files in her hands, and held them out to him. "Your debrief," she said with the first, in a black folder. "Your personnel file," she said as she added a red folder. "And lastly, your citizenship papers."

"My what?"

"In return to your service for not only the United States of America, both magical and non-magical, but also the world, you have been granted dual citizenship to the United States, both magical and non-magical, as well as the Goblin Nation. Congratulations, not many humans get to say they're also a goblin."

"What clan?" he asked, taking the third, unassuming manila folder and flipping through the papers.

"Gringots, of course," she said as if it were that obvious. "The King himself decreed it once his people were settled here in the US. I thought you knew."

"I was running across Central and South America! Of course I didn't bloody know!"

"Now you do," Anita said with a smirk. The smirk faded into a genuine smile as she offered her hand. "Well, Agent Grim, this is where we part ways. As of today, you're not just a free man, but you're a freelance agent. SHIELD is no more, and WARD is being rebuilt from the ground up. If you're needed, we'll call. But I don't foresee that happening any time soon."

He took her hand and gave it a shake and a smile of his own. One of relief, mostly. "Thank you, Anita," he said. "From the bottom of my heart."

"Just... outside of your work with the Avengers, can you try not to blow the statute of secrecy to hell until we figure out how to deal with it now that the ICW is in tatters?"

"I'll try. Walk me out? One last time?"

She rolled her eyes. "Only because your so damn cute for a man old enough to be my father."

"Well, I do look good for a man of my advanced years," he laughed, shrinking his folders down and putting them into his pocket.

Once outside, he was given back the sling ring that had been taken off him when he'd been collected in Brazil.

After a quick check of the street to make sure no one was looking, Harry gave a nod and thanked her one more time before opening a portal and stepping through to his apartment at the Tower rather than his flat in Brooklyn. If only because he desperately wanted to see his son.

Anita watched him go, the smile fading from her face as the portal closed to reveal a man with an unfortunately familiar eyepatch. "Mr. Fury," she said, reaching into her pocket and removing a memory stick.

"Miss Ollivander. I trust you didn't tell him-"

"No. He's earned a reprieve. Hopefully we won't need him again any time soon."

"Provided the information on that stick is accurate, we can end Project Miracle once and for all before any more of your people turn up dead or mutated."

**o0o**

It was July 31st when Harry Potter-Black returned to his apartment in Brooklyn, after an exhausting day and a half at the tower with Tony, who called Hermione and Ron and the rest of the damn family over.

Hermione had slapped him. Hard. And shouted at him a bit. When Tony found him later hiding in his lab from the woman, he offered to get him a scotch and a pizza, then chewed into him about Steve and a new friend of his coming to visit.

"How stupid do you have to be to not only swear one of those damn things but then tell someone you did it?! Oh, I'm sorry, you didn't tell him. You told him to ask people about it! You couldn't even do that right!"

By the time the pizza got there, and Harry was on his third tumbler of scotch, the two were trading insults and Harry was transfiguring Tony's tools into giant bugs from cheesy horror films. It made them both feel a little better.

Harry even spent the night in the penthouse in the room across from Tony and Pepper, at Tony's insistence that it was Pepper's idea of course. But they all three knew neither Tony nor Harry would get a wink of sleep otherwise.

It didn't help that Tony had gotten his hands on Harry's debrief documents before Harry had a chance to read them all the way.

Harry had only been home for an hour, unpacking and trying to decide what to do about some dinner when there was a knock at his front door. "Kreacher!" he called out, summoning the elf who had, much to his credit, done his level best not to kill anyone on Harry's behalf during his latest stint with captivity.

"Master calls for Kreacher."

"Who's at the door?"

"Master's filthy muggles."

"Which muggles, Kreacher."

"The not muggle. And that odd one that flies."

".....Kreacher, you do realize that describes half of the people I work with, and the rest of it my family right?"

"Kreacher knows," the thing hissed at him, still rather sore on being forced not to intervene. Angry at Harry for making him go away and look after Tony instead after Harry had ordered him to take Sam and Steve's things away.

"I'm sorry, okay. But i couldn't have you popping in there and blowing the entire operation. And, by the way, I can now go back to England if I wanted to. I don't, but I could. And I'm not-"

The knocking became more insistent.

"Master should answer his door before the not muggle breaks it down."

Harry sighed and rubbed at his eyes with a groan. "Will you go put the kettle on or something?"

Kreacher muttered under his breath before popping off to do as he was bid while Harry left his bedroom. By the time he reached the front door, Sam's fist was raised to knock again. "Next time," he said, shouldering himself in past a bewildered as a six bottle pack of beer was thrust at him. "Don't leave him confused and alone with me in a dark alley."

"Well I-" Harry blinked as Steve came in, holding up two plastic shopping bags. "We brought dinner from that diner you like."

"You didn't have to."

"Oh yes he did!" Sam exclaimed. "He's been living on my sofa for almost a month. It's your turn to keep him for a while."

"But your apartment-"

"Was fixed, emptied, and rented out to someone else." Steve moved forward enough to shut the front door with his foot. "So... dinner?"

"What about all your things?!"

"The super boxed it all up once he realized who it all belonged to and started trying to sell it off. Coulson found out and paid him off to get everything back. It's... sitting in a storage locker in DC for the moment."

Harry shook his head and rolled his eyes before turning around to take the beer to the kitchen. Steve followed as Sam made himself right at home on Harry's sofa. "I suppose you'll just have to move in here with me then. It's a good thing I've got a spare room. I'll have Kreacher get everything and bring it over in the next few days."

Speak of the devil himself, the elf was doing as Harry had asked and putting the kettle on. Hissed at him when he saw the beer in his hand, and popped away, dropping the kettle of water on the floor and denting the side of it.

Steve laughed. Harry sighed.

"Oh, and star spangled poster boy told me its your birthday! Happy birthday! He's your problem now!" Sam called from the living room.


End file.
